S is for Shift

Part 1 (Hers), Part 2 (His), Part 3 (Hers)

The shifting attitude was subtle at first. In fact, it came across more as a confidence thing than anything else. It was really cool. Obviously, Bree had taken the time to set up all of the arrangements, had a plan (or at least a framework in mind), and was making sure that she maintained the direction and control. Even as they walked into the lobby, first motioning, then telling Gabe he needed to stay with the bags and wait.

She walked off and, he had to admit, he was gawking a bit. That step, that look as she moved to the counter… yum.

He was watching, waiting, when he thought he overheard her giving back his key – she was telling them they only needed a single key. Weird, but… then she pointed to him, smiled and waved at him to follow, then she started walking to the room. He was following along, schlepping the bags, playing the part of the bell-staff, several steps behind her. He was grinning at her, thinking she was goofing around with him.

She turned, looked at him with a serious look in her eyes and told him that he need to step it up a bit and keep up.

Gabe kept watching as she walked – that skirt – holy crap. Always a weakness. He looked down at the cart and something caught his eye. It was her underwear, sticking out of his pants pocket just a bit. Apparently he’d not quite gotten it pushed all the way in when they left the car. Shit. His mind immediately flashed on the people in the lobby, the people they’d walked by…

Back to the skirt. Wow.

He realized he’d stopped walking for a second, tried to rearrange his thoughts.

She was on him in a flash. A single finger below his chin, a gentle pressure. “You need to keep up, the room is beautiful and we don’t want to spend all day just wandering to get there. So please, hold these so they don’t blow away… ” she pulled the underwear out of his pocket and handed them to him “and let’s get moving. ”

As they walked in the room, Bree started letting him know what he needed to do. It seemed… odd. But the room was stunning. And through the windows, he could see the beautiful surroundings. He let out a low whistle as she walked out of the room and he wandered over to the window to open the door and take in the surroundings. Amazing, he thought, as he reached for the doors to open them to go out on the deck.

“I believe that I told you to take care of the luggage and two other chores. I didn’t tell you to go outside… that’s a demerit. Do what I told you” she said, from behind him, only about 5 feet away.

She was standing there, serious as a heart-attack. Waiting. He turned with a smile on his face to greet her. He was going to pull her in, kiss her, hold her. She met his gaze, locked eyes with him.

“Now,” she paused. Not smiling back.

He lost a beat. His brain did a bit of a backflip and felt a wave flow over him. He LOVED this side of her. He craved this side of their relationship. He wanted so much to just yell it out, tell her he was “all in” whatever the hell that meant. Sort of a “Bring it on” look crossed his face before he could stop it. She stared him down. Almost daring him to speak. Each second that passed his brain, his body was reacting. He didn’t even know where it all came from. He didn’t understand it. It was a little overwhelming and calming all at once.

“Yes, Mistress. ” He said. It was the only words that seemed right. The only way to respond and give the respect he felt and wanted to convey. “I’m sorry that I disobeyed.” That was it. His mind latched on and realized what was happening.

He hurried around, getting the bags where she’d asked and lighting the fireplace. Bree pulled a couple of bottles of their favorite wine from the heavier bag, placing them on the counter.

Gabe grabbed the ice bucket, and reached for the key to head out to get ice. “Did I say you could take that? You may knock when you return.” He stopped, pulled his hand back and headed out the door for the ice.

When he came back to the room, ice in-hand, He reached for the handle, remembered he had no way in, and paused. He knocked on the door and waited. There wasn’t any sound front inside, but he looked around, not sure what to do. He knocked again, a bit louder this time. Getting worried, he looked around to confirm the room.

Another long pause.

He reached up to knock again and just as his second knock, louder this time, landed, he heard Bree, “Who is it?” He laughed. She didn’t. “Me, ” Gabe answered. She opened the door slightly, staring. “Me, Mistress,” he said quietly so no one could hear. She was not amused. “Me, Mistress,” he stated clearly. She double-checked the bucket for ice and allowed him in.

“Please put one of the bottles of wine on ice. And then strip and come over here so I can put on your collar and cuffs.”

He did so with the wine, and headed toward the bedroom to change. “No, here is fine,” she said. She walked over and matched his first step backwards, keeping a very short distance between them. He fumbled his way through his buttons as she watched intently. She ran her fingers down his chest as his shirt opened, continuing downward as his pants dropped to the floor.

He could protest, but his body was giving him away. He was trying to hide it, trying to not be blatantly obvious, but failing, miserably.

She locked eyes with him, then pointed down. “Down,” she said. He dropped to his knees, still locked with her eyes.

“I am in charge this weekend. Remember that.” “Yes, Mistress.”

“Look down, as well, unless I’m speaking with you.” He did so, immediately. She stepped back a step or two and walked away. She returned in just a moment and fastened his collar, his cuffs on his wrists.

“Pour me a glass of wine and then unpack the bags in the bedroom and the bathroom. You know how I want things to be. And don’t touch this other bag. I’ll be waiting on the balcony for you. Don’t keep me waiting.”

He did as he was told, heading off to get the bags and their contents put away, placed just so. He piled his things in the night stand, taking up as little room as possible. Putting her things just so, making sure it was as she really liked things, was a fun challenge. He loved that she almost purred for him when things were just so. Nothing you can hear, just a a real, sincere satisfaction with what he’d done.

“I’m done, Mistress. Do you want to check?” she heard from the doorway.

“In a bit. Come out here now and sit at my feet. I want to enjoy the view before it gets dark.”

“But…” She heard him nervously trying to figure out if she meant in his current state of undress. “Should I put on my clothes?” he asked softly.

“No. Just like that,” Bree commanded.

He paused. This was a moment of truth. He looked around as quickly as he could – he couldn’t see anyone, but he knew other cabins where “out there,” somewhere. He paused. She looked at him and raised an eyebrow. It was like she was silently counting to herself.

He walked outside and sat down.

“Kneel please, I was going to let you sit, but that was just too much hesitation. And hands behind your back, please, we don’t want you being all worried about covering up. ” He looked around again, paused…. “Now.”

He moved his hands behind his back and she reached around, clipping the cuffs together.

He shivered – it was more from nerves and adrenaline than cold though, and fought an inner battle, back and forth about what was going on – playing it over and over. He realized he was both hard as a rock, and at the same time, calm as he tried to relax, tried to not worry about the whole “outside on the deck” thing. He looked up at her, smiled.

She pursed her lips, shaking her head slightly. “Down, please. And this is your last reminder.”

“Yes, Mistress,” he said quickly.


3 Replies to “S is for Shift”

  1. You’ve captured the nervous energy when in a new scene wonderfully here. And that calmness that surrounds one who gives into the surrender. Very nice indeed!

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